


make me into more than a goner

by MagicaLyss



Series: Bluer Than The Sky (Whumptober 2019) [19]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gen, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Harley Keener, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie) Spoilers, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21688660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicaLyss/pseuds/MagicaLyss
Summary: Whumptober Day Twenty-Two. Hallucination“Wait!” Peter shouts, holding his palms out in front of him.He hates that he has to ask. He hates that he can’t trust anything around him. Not now. Not after how easily Beck pulled the rug of reality out from under his feet.“Peter?” Harley calls out. “Is everything okay?”“How do I know you’re real?” he shouts, taking a staggering step backwards. His legs throb at the movement and his knees threaten to give out.Even from far away, he can see the way Harley’s face falls and creases. “What? Of course I’m real, Parker.”“Tell me something only you would know!”
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Bluer Than The Sky (Whumptober 2019) [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1502675
Comments: 13
Kudos: 417





	make me into more than a goner

**Author's Note:**

> This is more Post-Hallucinations than actually Hallucinations but yk what it's fine

(“ _If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still love you_!”)  
  


He gasps, eyes darting around as he wakes up.  
  


A jail cell.  
  


God-knows-where.  
  


He got hit by a fucking train.  
  


His friends are going to be killed.  
  


He has no one to save him from the mess he’s created.  
  


He’s-  
  


He’s in a lot of pain.  
  


Hissing through his teeth, he pulls himself to his feet, eyes bouncing between the sleeping officer and the few others in the cell. Everything hurts, but he needs to get out of here. He needs to save his friends. He needs… He probably needs medical help. He really just wants to take a nap in a real bed.  
  


He breaks the lock with ease, pretending it doesn’t pull at a wound on his shoulder. The blood drips down his back, but he ignores it.  
  


Out. He needs to get out. Immediately. He needs help.  
  


(He pretends he has someone to call for help. May can’t help him. The Avengers are broken up, either dead or retired, he doesn’t know their numbers anyway. Pepper’s got Morgan, he can’t ask her to rescue him. Happy and Rhodey are with Tony in his bedridden state… Peter _can’t_. He can’t bother them again, and again, and again. Especially after he just failed so miserably.)  
  


Smells assault his nose as soon as he stumbles out of the jail into what seems like farming area. A goat tries to take his jersey which he quickly tugs over his head, eyes darting between the people. _None_ of them could be real. This could all be a hallucination. He just has to trust that this is real.  
  


“Could I use your phone?” he asks the first person he can see with a phone.  
  


It’s handed over to him without a question. In Queens, nobody would’ve been this kind to him.  
  


But he’s standing there, in the middle of fucking nowhere with no one to call, desperate for help.  
  


He doesn’t want to bother _anybody_. But there’s one person that could help him. One person that genuinely would want to come all the way to the Netherlands to save him. One person who wouldn’t hate him for what he’s done.  
  


“Keener.”  
  


“I need help.”

  
*  
  
Everything hurts, his brain feels like it’s made of jello, his knees are weak.  
  


MJ would’ve said something about symbolism or something metaphorical about him limping through the field of tulips, but she’s not here, and he can’t think of anything she’d say other than it sucks.  
  


(Alone, alone, alone-)  
  


( _“If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still love you!”_ )  
  


And then the jet flies down in front of him, slowing to a stop, almost soundlessly.  
  


Peter stops moving, scrubbing a dirty hand over his face. He’s been on the edge of a mental breakdown for hours, it’s only a matter of time before he breaks.  
  


The jet opens and a ramp lowers to the ground, revealing none other than Harley Keener.  
  


The older boy saunters down the ramp like he’s worth a million dollars, all long limbs and mad-scientist hair and smirking mouth.  
  


“Wait!” Peter shouts, holding his palms out in front of him.  
  


He hates that he has to ask. He hates that he can’t trust _anything_ around him. Not now. Not after how easily Beck pulled the rug of reality out from under his feet.  
  


Harley stops, lifting his hands as well in a sign of surrender.  
  


“Peter?” he calls out, southern accent lilting. “Is everything okay?”  
  


“How do I know you’re real?” he shouts, taking a staggering step backwards. His legs throb at the movement and his knees threaten to give out.  
  


Even from far away, he can see the way Harley’s face falls and creases. “What? Of course I’m real, Parker.”  
  


“Tell me something only you would know!”  
  


He’s only known Harley for less than a year. There’s not much that _only_ Harley would know.  
  


“Um, right, okay… Morgan’s nickname for you was Pumpkin Pie because she heard Pepper calling you Petey-Pie once. And when we had a formal dinner, Morgan insisted on pumpkin pie for you. Pumpkin pie makes you sick, but you didn’t want to crush her spirit so you ate three slices and pretending to really love it. I had to spend the majority of the night on the bathroom floor with you while you threw up for hours. Is that good enough?”  
  


Peter lets out a watery laugh, stumbling forward until he can collapse against Harley.  
  


“It’s really good to see you,” he says, blinking back tears. Harley hesitantly wraps his arms around Peter.  
  


Harley’s patient as he waits for Peter’s breaths to even out, and then he’s pulling away, grabbing Peter’s chin and tipping his head up.  
  


“Shit, you look roughed up. You know it’s my obligation to murder whoever did this, right?” Harley grins, looping an arm around Peter’s shoulders, quietly careful of Peter’s wounds. “Time for me to play Nurse Keener. Morgan taught me everything I know about nursing.”  
  


Peter offers what he hopes is a grateful smile, but he knows it probably comes out like a grimace. He does trust Harley. He’d trust the older boy with his life, because he knows Tony would.  
  


(Tony who’s probably just gotten the news that Peter’s god-knows-where and that Harley’s stolen a bunch of tech and disappeared to find him. Tony who’s probably trying to convince Rhodey and Happy to let him come see if his kids are okay. Tony who’s still weak and tired and can barely stay awake for a few hours at a time, who’s missing an arm, who’s hooked up to more machines then imaginable.)  
  


Harley makes quick work patching Peter up. Stitches, gauze, bandages, medical tape, relocating his shoulder.  
  


“Ow,” Peter whines, shoulders tensing as Harley continues stitching the deep cut in his shoulder blade.  
  


“I thought you had spider strength?” Harley teases without stopping. “This is nothing. Happy’s told me about the dozens of times he’s given you stitches and he never mentioned you complaining this much!”  
  


“Fuck off.” Peter clenches his fist in his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.  
  


(Beck is out there and Peter screwed everything up. He couldn’t have possibly made a bigger mistake than the one he made the other day. Giving Beck the glasses, trusting that man so easily. Handing over _everything_ -)  
  


“Relax,” Harley mutters, cutting the string.  
  


Peter stands up, tears blurring his vision. “Don’t tell me to relax!”  
  


He shouldn’t be shouting. Harley dropped _everything_ to fly out to the fucking Netherlands to try to fix Peter’s mistakes. He shouldn’t be shouting, but he is, and he still can’t be sure whether or not this is real.  
  


“I gave the glasses to Beck! I messed _everything_ up!” he shouts, pushing his hand through his hair and pulling at it as though it’ll get his head to straighten out. “The only thing Mister Stark left me and I gave it to Beck who’s going to kill my friends and half of Europe! Don’t fucking tell me to relax!”  
  


Instead of meeting him with soft words and apologies, Harley meets it the way Peter had needed him to. The way he felt he deserved.  
  


“You fucked up, Parker!” Harley shouts, standing up as well. He’s a good couple inches taller than Peter and he uses it to his advantage. “Is that what you want to hear? Yeah, you fucked up! Big time!”  
  


Peter’s crying, that much he’s sure of. And he’s still angry. Awfully angry. The kind of anger that consumes your insides and lights you on fire and dyes your vision red. But he’s so tired. So, so tired. And _hurt_.  
  


“But _everyone_ fucks up, Parker.” Harley’s breathing heavily, but he’s not shouting anymore. He sounds as tired as Peter feels. “Everyone does. You just made a mistake. That’s okay. We’re going to fix it.”  
  


“Mister Stark’s-”  
  


Harley’s already shaking his head. “You’re wrong. I know what you’re going to say. Trust me, the only thing Tony’s going to feel is worried. He’s not going to hate you. This isn’t going to change anything.”  
  


Sitting down, Peter chokes on a sob, hiding his face in his hands.  
  


( _“Weak. Pathetic. If you were good enough…”_ )  
  


“Everyone’s asking who’s going to be the next Iron Man and the next Tony Stark, and I- I can’t do that. I can’t be him. I _can’t_ ,” Peter cries into his hands. “Harley, I can’t be him. I can’t live up to that. I already failed him.”  
  


( _“If you were good enough…”_ )  
  


Laying a gentle hand on Peter’s good shoulder, Harley shakes his head. “Don’t tell Tony I said this, but you’re better than he _ever_ was. Whatever Beck said to you, it’s not true.”  
  


It’s too late for kind words like the one’s Harley’s offering. It’s too late to consider accepting anyone else’s truths. It’s too late. Beck’s words have already encircled Peter’s head, already wrapped around his throat, already planted themselves in his chest like weeds. It’s too late for anything other than the insecurities to grow.  
  


( _“If you were good enough…”_ )  
  


“Plus,” Harley continues, laughing quietly. Peter lifts his head to find Harley grinning maniacally. “ _I’m_ the next Ironman. Have you seen the news? I’m being called _Iron Lad_.”  
  


It’s meant to be a joke, but it alleviates a lot of the pressure on Peter’s shoulders. Harley _wants_ to be the next Iron Man. Peter doesn’t have to. Peter can just be Spider-Man.  
  


“Iron Lad? Really?” Peter says, trying to laugh as well, but it comes out warped and distorted like he’s underwater.  
  


Harley takes it though. “Yep! Gonna be Iron Lad, Spider-Man, and their Leader, Miss Morgana!”  
  


It helps. The jokes help. Having Harley here with him helps.  
  


Harley, all mad scientist hair and long limbs and wide eyes. All snappy words and calloused hands and sarcasm. All Tennessee drama and southern charm. All Tony Stark down to the core.  
  


“Well, what do you say? You ready to kick ass?”

  
*  
  
Harley lands by Peter, faceplate of his Iron Lad suit lifting to reveal his grinning face.  
  


“You got him? You good?” he asks, eyes sliding over Peter’s burnt and bloody suit. “You need Nurse Keener to help you out again?”  
  


Peter tries his best to offer a smile. He’s not _okay._ It’s going to be a long time before he’s okay after this disaster. He still can’t help but look around him, checking for drones, checking to see if Beck is somehow alive, somehow lurking. His hands won’t stop shaking.   
  


( _“You lied to me and I trusted you!”_ )  
  


( _“If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still love you!”_ )  
  


“I got him,” Peter says. “It’s over. I’m okay… I just need the world’s longest nap.”  
  


Harley’s grinning and he loops an arm around Peter’s waist to lift him up in the air in the suit, just like how Tony used to do it.  
  


Peter drops his head against the metal shoulder of the suit and finally lets his walls crumble and he breaks.  
  


If Harley notices Peter shaking in his grip, if he notices Peter crying for the trip back to the jet, if he notices Peter discreetly wiping his bloodshot eyes when they land, he doesn’t mention any of it.  
  


( _“You lied to me and I trusted you!”_ )  
  


( _“If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still love you!”_ )  
  


( _“I’m real, Parker.”_ )

  
*  
  
Tony meets them just outside the cabin.  
  


He tries to hide the fact that he’s been crying, and Peter does the same, but they can both see through each other’s facades.  
  


“You’re real?” Peter can’t help but ask when he’s wrapped in a warm hug. He’s clutching the back of Tony’s shirt, ignoring the guilt that wells up in his stomach, ignores the awful wave of pain at only one arm wrapping around his back.  
  


( _“If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still love you!”_ )  
  


“I’m real, kid. I’m real, I promise,” Tony says against his forehead. “I’m real. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”  
  


( _“You lied to me…”_ )  
  


( _“If you were good enough…”_ )  
  


Peter cries, letting himself fall apart once more. Watching over Tony’s shoulders as Harley scoops Morgan into his arms, somehow still grinning, still laughing, telling Morgan about how he played Nurse Keener again.  
  


He watches Pepper and May sitting on the porch swing, both of them looking beyond exhausted but content. Happy. Leaning against each other.  
  


He watches Happy and Rhodey leaning against the car in the driveway, drinking from pop cans and debating who has to feed Gerald.  
  


It’s not perfect. It’s from it. But it’s _real_.  
  


( _“You lied to me and I trusted you!”_ )  
  


( _“If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still love you!”_ )  
  


( _“I’m real, Parker.”_ )  
  


( _“I’m real. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”_ )  
  


( _“I love you.”  
  
_

_“I love you.”  
  
_

_“I love you.”  
  
_

_“I love you.”  
  
_

_“I love you.”  
  
_

_“I love you.”  
  
_

_“I love you.”_ )  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](https://lyssismagical.tumblr.com/)


End file.
